


The Opposite of Afterglow, Redux

by roquentine



Series: The Opposite of Afterglow [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-11
Updated: 2012-03-11
Packaged: 2017-11-01 18:59:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/360162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roquentine/pseuds/roquentine





	The Opposite of Afterglow, Redux

_This time, from left to right: Mycroft, Lestrade, John, Sherlock._

_Lestrade:_  I simply do not understand why this keeps happening.

 _Sherlock:_   Hormones?

 _Mycroft:_   We are none of us nineteen.

 _John:_   Insanity?

 _Lestrade:_   That sounds right.

 _Sherlock:_   It's nice, though.

 _John:_   What, insanity?

 _Sherlock:_   No, this. Shove over.

 _John:_   See, I told you, there's no room.

 _Sherlock:_   There's plenty of room...

 _John:_   ...no there's not...

 _Sherlock:_   ...if you _would just_...

 _Mycroft:_    **BOYS.**

_Maneuvering ensues. Finally John sits up and Sherlock slides down around him, settling his head on the sheets covering John's middle. John's hand threads his hair. Sherlock closes his eyes._

_Lestrade (thoughtfully):_   Maybe if we stopped playing bridge...

 _Mycroft:_   This isn't happening because we play bridge.

 _John:_   Really? Because so far, every time we've played bridge...

 _Mycroft:_   Post hoc, ergo propter hoc.

_Three of the four men groan._

_Lestrade:_   Oh, God help me.

 _Mycroft:_   It's Latin.

 _John:_   No kidding.

 _Mycroft:_   "After it, therefore because of it." It's a logical fallacy.

 _Sherlock (into the sheets):_   No one cares.

 _Mycroft:_   Just because one thing follows the other doesn't mean it was caused by the other.

 _Lestrade (quietly):_   Stop showing off, love.

 _Sherlock (loudly):_   He can't help it.

 _John:_   Must be a Holmes thing.

 _Sherlock:_   I heard that.

 _John (leaning over Sherlock):_   Damn. I thought with my mouth being a whole twelve inches from your ear...

_He kisses Sherlock's head affectionately._

_Lestrade:_   Still, I think I've gone off bridge.

 _John:_   That's just because we lose.

 _Lestrade:_   Which is just because they cheat.

 _Sherlock:_   Oi!      _Mycroft:_   Of course we don't cheat.

 _Lestrade:_   Well, not _cheat_ , exactly, but...

 _John:_   All you have to do is look at each other and you know what cards the other one is holding.

 _Sherlock:_   That's not cheating.

 _John:_   You're right. It's not cheating. It's just... really weird. Next time, we switch partners.

 _Sherlock (smirking):_   We've already done that.

 _Lestrade:_   _Bridge_ partners.

 _Sherlock_ and _Mycroft:_   No.

 _Lestrade:_   Why not?

 _Sherlock:_   We... don't play well with others.

 _John (rolling his eyes):_   All evidence to the contrary.

 _Lestrade:_   Fine, then no more bridge.

_A brief pause._

_Mycroft (pensively):_   Tennis?

 _Sherlock (quickly):_    No.

 _John:_   There's an idea.

 _Lestrade:_   Tennis might work.

 _Sherlock:_   No.

 _John (sighing):_   Now what's your problem?

 _Mycroft:_   He can't play.

 _Sherlock (looking up):_  That is _completely_ untrue.

 _Mycroft:_   Fine. He can't play _well_.

 _Sherlock:_   ....

 _John:_   Ah. So, tennis, then?

 _Sherlock: (burrowing back into John's lap)_   No.

 _Lestrade (to John):_   That might just solve our problem.

 _John (nodding in agreement):_   We'd be outside...

 _Sherlock:_   ...no...

 _Lestrade:_   Nowhere _near_ this bed...

 _Sherlock:_   ...no...

 _John:_   And we'd be tired afterward.

 _Sherlock:_   ... _NO_.

 _Mycroft (working his Blackberry):_   I can get us court time at my club, looks like Thursday, seven o'clock. Does that work for everyone?

 _John:_   Sure.    _Lestrade:_   Yeah, I think so.   _Sherlock:_   **NO.**

 _John (quietly, to Sherlock):_  Don't make a fuss.   _(to everyone):_   We'll be there.

 _Sherlock:_   Fine, but only if I'm on Mycroft's side.

 _John_ and _Mycroft_ and _Lestrade_ :  No.

 _Sherlock:_   But...

 _John:_   Shush. You'll play with me, and we'll lose, and you'll live.

 _Lestrade:_   I like the sound of that.

 _Mycroft (shutting off his Blackberry):_   We're all set.

 _Sherlock: (petulantly):_   Isn't it time for you to go?

 _Mycroft (turning to settle against Lestrade's back):_   No, no meetings tomorrow.

_Sherlock throws the covers back in dramatic fashion, gets up, looks expectantly at John._

_John (innocently):_   Yes?

 _Sherlock:_   Let's go.

 _John:_   I'm sorry?

 _Sherlock:_   There's too many people in this bed.

 _John:_   Not now, there isn't.

_John starts to settle in. Sherlock stands, stares, sighs._

_Sherlock (flatly):_   Fine. Okay. Fine.

 _John:_   Fine, okay, fine, what?

 _Sherlock:_   I'll play tennis.

 _John:_   You will?

 _Sherlock:_   Yes, of course.

 _John:_   With me as your partner?

 _Sherlock:_   Absolutely. I'm looking forward to it. Can't wait. Let's go.

_John looks at him with suspicion, then shakes his head and gets up. Good nights are exchanged as Sherlock and John exit into the corridor._

_Mycroft (calling after them):_   Oh, and Sherlock?

 _Sherlock's voice:_   Yes?

 _Mycroft:_   No fabricated crime scenes at 6:45 on Thursday, please.

_A brief pause._

_Sherlock's voice:_    _Bollocks._

### _  
_


End file.
